


Roll with the punches

by VolunteerFieryDantooinian



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Awkwardness, Cramps, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Periods, Sickfic, Trans Curtis, Trans Male Character, Vomiting, shark week, sort of, very gay tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolunteerFieryDantooinian/pseuds/VolunteerFieryDantooinian
Summary: In which Curtis is miserable, and Rene is a good pillow and an even better almost-boyfriend.





	Roll with the punches

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, l I s t en  
> I  
> Had to write this  
> Also?? I love this ship so  
> Have some Curtene/Terrificdog fluff? Idk what the ship name is

Curtis rolled over, clutching his pillow to his stomach and letting out a drawn-out, pained groan. "This isn't fair." He managed, utterly despising the way he felt right then. Prickling, heated pain crawled through his insides, right at the base of his abdomen. It was altogether very, very uncomfortable and making his stomach churn, like he'd swallowed a rock. Or been poisoned. He honestly thought either one of those would be better than  _this._

He managed to drag himself out of bed and get half-dressed, and it was only when he'd put on his jacket he realized there was no  _way_ he'd be able to fight like this. Everything hurt, and he felt sick as hell, and if anyone said anything even mildly rude to him he'd start crying right then and there. Dysphoria  _sucked._

He took off his shirt and changed back into his pajamas, leaving his binder on, because fuck, if he was going to be dysphoric he was at least going to pass while he was doing it. A particularly bad shudder of pain worked through his insides, and he swallowed hard. Fuck. 

After maybe a half hour of searching, he discovered he was out of painkillers, or really, any painkillers that would actually work. There was no way he was going out like this, not by himself. With his luck, he'd pass out halfway down the stairs, or throw up on a stranger or something equally terrible. 

Curtis pulled out his phone, shooting Felicity a quick text. 

**hey, are u up?? Code red, need painkillers, please**

**if u get this more than a half hour from now just ignore it**

He waited for a little bit, playing a little solitaire on his phone. He didn't get an answer within five minutes, so he moved on to the next person he felt comfortable asking for such a favor. 

**Yo Dinah,, could you do me a huge favor and get me some Advil, midol, anything**

**please**

Curtis waited again. This time, he did get a response, rather quickly in fact. He looked down as his phone dinged.

**Sorry, In the middle of something, I can in, like an hour**

goddamnit.

**its ok, ill ask rene~**

_**Alright, say hi to your bf for me** _

He ignored that last comment, face going a little red. They weren't exactly boyfriends, but they weren't not, so.. No, they weren't friends with benefits, not like that. Curtis sighed and shot Oliver a text, letting him know he wouldn't be coming in today. Then he braced himself, and sent a text to Rene.

**Hey can you do me a huge favor?? Can u grab me some painkillers??**

He responded even quicker than Dinah, which was impressive. Rene usually wasn't up this early. 

_**Sure thing, you alright man?** _

**Dont question it**

_**k, On my way now** _

Curtis breathed a sigh of relief. The cavalry was coming, and even though there was an awkward conversation ahead, it couldn't be that bad, right? Rene knew he was trans, it was ok. Secretly, he hoped he would stay, take care of him, even. He banished that thought to the back of his mind. 

Awaiting his arrival, Curtis grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cloak, and trudged to the living room. He flopped onto the couch, wincing as the change in position made his stomach roll, pain prickling through his abdomen. Fuck, this hurt. He got up and rummaged through the drawers until he found the heating pad. Thank god. He microwaved it for the amount of time he was supposed to, and laid back down on top of it, the heat spreading through his back. It felt nice, but no matter where he put it, he still felt nauseated and in a whole lot of cacti-esque pain.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Curtis almost jumped out of his skin. "You can come in." He groaned, resting a hand against the spot right below his stomach that hurt the most. A sharp ache sat there in a tight, painful knot. 

"Hey, man, I brought what you asked for," Rene exclaimed, loud enough to make Curtis wince. "Are you doin' ok?" 

"Please try to be quieter. No, I'm not doing ok. I don't think I've ever been in this much pain in my life." He gasped, voice weak and trembling. Rene gave him a concerned look, setting a bottle of Advil on the side table and sat down beside him. 

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on? Please tell me you don't have a concussion." His voice was softer now, gentler, and Curtis wanted to cry. 

"I don't have a concussion. It's.. I don't want you to deal with me when I'm like this, ok?" Curtis sniffed, rubbing his eyes and swallowing hard as his stomach lurched again. 

"Like wha-" Rene seemed to realize what he meant halfway through the question. " _Oh._ I uh, I'm really sorry, Curtis. I wasn't thinkin' for a second. You're.." He hesitated, face a little pink. "You're on shark week, huh." Rene's expression was so utterly sincere Curtis actually did start crying, letting out a little sniffle and then swallowing back a sob. 

"Please stay." He mumbled, moving a little closer. Rene, like a good houseguest, took off his shoes and patted Curtis' arm gently. 

"Woah, hoss, where did you get the idea I was leaving?" He soothed, and Curtis sighed in relief. A particularly sharp pain shifted through his abdomen. 

"Fuck." He gasped, fingers digging into his side. Nausea rolled over him, and his stomach heaved perilously. The pain radiating from his insides was turning his stomach into a tight, painful ball of nauseation. He probably looked pitiful. "Rene, I need you to do me a favor real quick." Curtis managed. "Rene."

"Yeah, of course." He said softly, curling his hand around Curtis'. Chills were shooting up and down his spine and fuck, he was gonna throw up.

"Trash can. Now." His voice was shaky and all too high, and Rene stumbled to his feet, grabbing the trash can next to the couch and sitting back down carefully as to not disturb Curtis any more. He held it out, and Curtis took it, wrapping himself around it. Another wave of nausea rose in his stomach. He heaved, more pain lancing through his abdomen, and Rene calmly shifted his position a little, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles. Curtis heaved again, and then vomited unceremoniously. 

"Easy. Easy, now." Rene soothed, and he threw up again, bile leaving a sour taste in his mouth. The pain stabbed through him again and he dry-heaved, hands shaking as he clutched the trash can. 

After heaving uselessly for a few minutes, Curtis set the trash can down a few feet away and slumped against Rene, adjusting the heating pad. "Curtis, man, you need to take your binder off. That's just gonna make you hurt worse." He murmured. Curtis frowned, but managed to, after about 5 minutes of struggling, pull off his binder without taking off his sweatshirt. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, and let out a pained whine. Rene frowned and pulled Curtis closer. 

"You don't look like you feel very well, baby.." He murmured, sliding one warm hand under Curtis' shirt. He gently kneaded and rubbed the spot right below his belly with the flat of his palm, and Curtis relaxed, exhausted. "I'm gonna get you some water, ok? See if we can get you to feel a little bit better." He slid out from under him and adjusted Curtis' position to be more comfortable, which he appreciated. 

Rene came back within minutes with a glass of water, and he shook out 2 capsules from the Advil bottle. He deposited them carefully into Curtis' shaking hand, and he took the glass gratefully. 

Curtis frowned at the pills, and took them one at a time with a few sips of water. He almost choked on the second one, but got it down anyways, and he shivered as pain pulsed through him. Rene slipped his hand under his shirt again, massaging the painful, tender area at the base of his abdomen. He was surprisingly gentle, and Curtis found himself getting sleepy already. 

He curled up in Rene's lap, and the man was almost like a heating pad himself. Rene kissed his temple gently, and adjusted the blankets around Curtis. "Get some rest. You'll feel better when you wake up." 

Curtis drifted in and out of sleep for a while, exhausted and slightly less in pain. Then his pain faded, and he fell all the way into dreamless sleep.

 

 

Curtis awoke shivering, feeling like his uterus was trying to kill itself as pain squeezed his insides like a fist. Even though he hadn't eaten since yesterday, the churning ache in his stomach made him feel like he'd swallowed a lead weight. 

He kicked off the blankets and his stomach rolled queasily. 

"Rene." He mumbled, trying to wake him gently. " _Rene._ " Curtis repeated his name, louder this time, urgency clear in his voice. Rene's eyes slid open and he looked around, focusing on Curtis. 

"Yeah, what's up?" His voice was rougher than usual from sleep.

"I'm- fuck." He cursed, a particularly bad round of pain shifting through him. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling down the hallway to the bathroom. Rene followed him, and Curtis shoved open the door, half-collapsing onto the floor in front of the toilet. The churning in his stomach intensified, and he curled an arm around his middle, making a pathetic noise. "Fuck." 

Rene sat down behind him and began to rub his back, and while that would usually make him feel better, his stomach heaved anyways. He heaved painfully into the toilet, fingers desperately clutching the cold rim, and then threw up, a gush of thin vomit splashing against porcelain. Rene slid a hand up his shirt and rubbed gentle circles into his stomach. It helped to soothe the tightly wound, painful nausea sitting there. 

"It's ok," Rene soothed, and Curtis whimpered in a way that was probably really pathetic. "Shh, shh, baby, it's ok." His voice was soft and gentle. "Do you think you're gonna throw up again, or do you wanna go back to the couch?" 

"I dunno." He mumbled, and Rene rubbed his back gently.

"Ok. We can wait a little and see how you feel." Rene reassured, and Curtis relaxed a little. A spasm of pain stabbed through him and he dry-heaved, hard, but it just made his stomach hurt worse. Rene rubbed his back, and after he sat there for a few minutes, he decided he was probably ok to move.

"Couch." He said quietly, and Rene helped him to his feet. Slowly, he walked back to the couch and laid down, pulling the blanket back over him. 

"Do you want me to get you anything?" He asked, gently stroking his hair. 

"I've got a box of peppermint tea up in the cabinet." Curtis enthused. "It steeps for about 2 minutes, it really helps when I'm.." He gestured vaguely. "Like this. And if it's not too much trouble, could you please heat up my heating pad? Please?" He begged, and Rene chuckled.

"Of course, dude. It's not any trouble at all." He took the heating pad and walked into the kitchen. After a few minutes, and a little racket, Rene returned, holding a heating pad and a mug of tea. Curtis scooted over so Rene could sit beside him, and nestled the heating pad between his back and the couch. It was heaven. He leaned against Rene, sipping his tea furtively. It was warm, sweet, and everything he needed right then.

His stomach still hurt, an uncomfortable ache blooming right above the stabbing, nauseated pain in his lower abdomen that was only less stabbing because of the heating pad. He swallowed hard and pressed one hand to where it hurt the most, hidden by his t-shirt.

"You don't look like you feel well. C'mere." Rene pulled him closer as he sipped his tea, and he was warm. His hands, too, were warm as he shifted Curtis' hand away and began to massage the area right below his stomach, a mess of tight, nauseating pain. Curtis sighed and leaned back, and Rene continued to rub the sensitive, painful spot with a surprisingly gentle hand, sometimes drifting across his stomach and tracing patterns. It helped to settle his still-queasy stomach, and even if that didn't last, it still felt really good.

Curtis denoted for him to pause for a second and grabbed the bottle of Advil, managing to shake out two and swallow them down with a few swigs of tea, setting the bottle down and letting Rene continue. Curtis let out a small noise of contentment.

"You're so warm." He sighed appreciatively, and Rene smiled. 

"You seem like you're in a better mood, sweetheart." Rene noticed, and Curtis nodded, snuggling closer to him and adjusting the hot pad. He sipped his tea again, taking a long sip, and set it down on the coffee table, then decided that was all the moving he planned on doing for about 3 hours. 

Rene kneaded the prickly, painful tenderness around the base of his abdomen until Curtis rolled onto his stomach, sliding the heat pad between his lower abdomen and Rene. It felt like heaven, and Rene started rubbing his back instead, rubbing firm, soothing circles into his back with warm hands. 

This successfully exhausted Curtis, practically putting him to sleep within minutes. The haze of sleep started taking over his mind, and Rene pulled him closer. He was glad he'd stayed, even with Curtis in this state. Especially with Curtis in this state.

And with that, he fell asleep.


End file.
